


Alternative

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 17:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis negotiates his birthday party.





	Alternative

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Iggy?”

Ignis doesn’t turn around from his place over the stove, but he does hum an answer that leads Noctis to believe he’s listening. Standing on the other side of the island in the kitchenette, Noctis fidgets. It’s not too late to back out and just keep his mouth shut. Be he’s already got his mind set on the perfect birthday, and he doesn’t want to give it up.

He ventures carefully, “I need to make a large purchase.”

“Of?”

“Just something for the birthday. Doesn’t matter. Can you lift the limit on my card for a few days?”

Ignis pauses. He glances over his shoulder, mouth in a thin frown. The fact that he’s wearing a white apron, tied in a neat little bow at the small of his back, slightly takes away from his ominous air. He’s always cute when he’s cooking. “If it’s _that_ large, I really must know what it is.”

Noctis’ nose wrinkles. “Why? I’m a grown man. I’ll be twenty in a few weeks; I don’t have to report everything to you.”

“You do when your apartment, food, and gaming habits already dip further into the royal coffers than your father would like to permit.”

Noctis sucks in a breath. He appreciates Ignis for dealing with that. He knew this wouldn’t be easy. He diverts his eyes to the island counter, which has absolutely nothing interesting on it. He mumbles, “Strippers.”

“What?”

Another breath, and he looks up again, forcing out, “Look, I’m more than old enough to have strippers, and I don’t mean, like, just cheap club entertainment, but, like... _fancy_ strippers. Maybe more like pole dancers? They can bring equipment to set up a pole here, so we don’t have to go out...”

He can tell from the stern look on Ignis’ face that his descriptions aren’t helping. He’s actually surprised that Ignis doesn’t look _more_ stern. He’d expected blanket horror and several hours of scolding. Instead, Ignis tightly tells him, “No.”

“But—”

“Noct, it simply can’t happen. You can’t be sure that whoever you hire doesn’t leak information of the night to the press, and in your position, you simply _can’t_ appear in the papers that way.”

“But...” Noctis just sort of trails off. He does recognize that Ignis is only protesting because of the public view of things, not his own personal view of things, which is progress. It means Ignis isn’t opposed to the idea _in theory_, say, in an alternate universe where Noctis wasn’t the prince. And Ignis wasn’t his retainer. But something else. But Noctis is the prince and Ignis is his advisor. So he presses, “I’ll be careful. I’ll interview them beforehand. Maybe we can get them to sign legal wavers...”

“That sort of paperwork would only exacerbate the situation if it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Okay, let’s not even say strippers then. Like. Fully clothed pole dancers.” Fully clothes in tight jeans and coeurl prints. Or a nice suit. And glasses.

“Noct, _why_?”

He can’t believe he even needs to explain that. “Because I’m a grown man and I want adult entertainment.”

“In front of Gladio, Prompto, and myself?”

Honestly, he would’ve liked Ignis to be there. The other two were always going to be sent home beforehand. But there’s no good way to tell Ignis that without getting in loads of trouble. “Well... it doesn’t have to be at the main birthday party. How about afterwards, so it’s just me? No witnesses?” He thinks but doesn’t say: _Unless you want to join._

“So you and a man strong enough to perform aerial acrobatics alone in a secure apartment.”

“...Yes?”

Ignis sighs. Noctis leans over the counter and does his best to do that thing with his eyes where he looks like a puppy and Ignis inevitably gives into him. He even whines, “_Please_, Specs? I _really_ want this...”

Ignis looks at him for a long minute. The stew atop the stove lies forgotten. After several empty seconds, Ignis carefully asks, “So you would be content if it were only you as a witness, they remained fully clothed, and absolutely nothing intimate occurred?”

Noctis nods. He assumed that anyway. He figured he’d politely wait until they left and _then_ get intimate with his hand to memories of it. 

The situation has completely reversed. Suddenly, Ignis is the one that looks unsure, and he speaks slowly as though trying to figure out the best words to convey an awkward message. He reveals, “I... _may_ have some experience in the matter...”

Noctis’ cheeks instantly flush. He can feel heat creeping down his body, though he tries to hold it back. He tells himself not to jump to conclusions. “Like... in hiring entertainment...?”

“In pole dancing.”

Noctis _stares_. 

He swallows. For some reason, he asks, “Are you any good?” Which is a stupid question, because he doesn’t even _care_. He was planning to hire an Ignis look-a-like anyway, and he doesn’t care if Ignis can’t even get five centimeters off the ground: the _real_ Ignis would be invaluable at any skill level.

Ignis stiffly answers, “I’d like to think so.”

“Can... can I have a demonstration?” For hiring purposes. Totally on the up-and-up. It’d be absurd to hire any entertainer for a party and _not_ require a demonstration beforehand. 

Ignis stares back at him.

Then Ignis mutters, “Not until your birthday,” and turns back to the stove.

Noctis is numb. He doesn’t dare test his luck. He squeaks, “Cool,” and wanders back to the couch.


End file.
